Another Banner Year
by muckfuffins
Summary: It's Emma's 29th birthday, and she spends with those she'd wanted to spend it with - her family, and a particular "sing-song" pirate, who may have had a little too much rum.


**A/N:** This was a prompt for Captain Swan Valentine, for my lovely Valentine! I honestly don't think I'm even great at writing fluff, and I personally think I may have put a little TOO much, but regardless, it's supposed to just be cute and loving and Valentines Day-y, so I hope you all still enjoy it :)

* * *

It was a small affair – family mostly – this year. Compared to her previous birthday that involved a blue star candle, a cupcake, and her ten year old son on her doorstep, this seemed… _normal_. In her twenty-eight – no, twenty-nine years, this was the first time she'd been surrounded by friends and family and it still felt more familiar than any other lonely birthday had been.

_Here's to another banner year_.

Too many birthdays had passed that Emma couldn't remember if she's ever had a person sing _Happy Birthday_ to her. It never crossed her mind that it might be Snow White, Prince Charming, her son, and a pirate – with a few more fairy tale names tossed in the mix. She had appreciated each and every birthday wish, and some had even gotten her gifts, her favourite being a beautifully knitted sweater Granny had made. There were swans crafted into both of the sleeves and on the back of the cardigan, and Emma slipped it on, relishing in its comfort.

Mary Margaret brought out the lavish cake with twenty-nine flickering candles sitting atop it. All of their voices rang out as they sang her _Happy Birthday_, all a different note and all out of unison. Emma couldn't stop the smile that crept onto her lips as Henry wrapped his arms around her waist in a tight hug, and Killian's hand found her shoulder, eliciting a reaction from her mother – her eyebrows raised and she stared… hard. Henry blew the candles out with her, leaving all but one.

"Looks like you have _one _boyfriend!" Henry laughed, blowing out the teasing flame.

"Is that the legend?" Killian asked nonchalantly. Emma glanced at him, and his brows were halfway up his forehead and he was wearing that stupid grin of his. He grabbed his glass off of the table and raised it, and everyone followed. "Cheers! To Emma!" Their glasses clinked together – all on her behalf. She tried to shake off these feelings with modesty, but when was the last time anyone raised their glasses for her?

Killian took a large swig of his rum, only to pour more in. He filled Emma's glass as well with her favourite wine, which she sipped. She wasn't sure if the warmth in her cheeks was from the wine or from today… right now.

They each took their pieces of cake and took seats on the couches, on the bar stools in the kitchen, and the chatter was lively. Mary Margaret and David – Snow and Charming: her _parents_, still a hard concept for Emma to grasp – were feeding one another cake in the kitchen, Henry was going between playing with Pongo with Ruby and eating his own slice, Granny and Archie were talking on the couch. Killian stood with Emma near the door, his back leaning against the wall, swirling his glass of rum in his hand.

"You look exceptionally happy, lass," he noted when he saw Emma observing silently, beaming.

She looked at him over her glass. "You say that like it's a bad thing," she teased. Her shoulder found his and she knocked him a little, making Killian teeter sideways a little. Emma's face grew serious. "This is just the first time that I can even remember where I had people – family – to be with on my birthday." Her eyes immediately found Henry and she found herself smiling again.

"Your accusations wound me, love," Killian remarked. "I only have good things to say."

Emma turned her head to face him and she was suddenly transfixed by his sea blue eyes, not to her surprise. His eyelids looked heavier than usual, but his smile was as genuine as his became. Emma's eyes fluttered and she caught herself staring.

"Besides," Killian began again, breaking the silence between them, "what reason do you have to reminisce of your past. You're here now, and so is everyone else. Isn't that what you'd always wanted?"

_You're one to talk, pirate._

Emma kept that to herself - today was not the day to have discussions of a pirate hell-bent on a three-hundred year old revenge.

"Well, yeah..." she replied slowly. Of course it was. Emma was finally with her family again, and Henry was happy. Despite all of that, there was still a part of her missing; that one piece of her that she had long since forgotten, but protected with every ounce of her being. Her eyes looked over Killian without her asking them to.

"Why sound so down, then?" Killian asked, gesturing around the room with his glass. He took another gulp before continuing. "You're the one who sings as loud as humanly possible in the shower."

Emma could have sworn her heart stopped beating for a moment, and she shot him a venomous look. "What?" was all she managed in response.

"You sing because you are happy. Correct me if I'm wrong in saying such things?" Emma could tell that Killian knew he was right - the faint smirk that appeared on his lips always told her what it was he was thinking.

Perhaps she should be taking that as a sign that she may be spending far too much time with him.

A pang of... something thrummed in her chest.

"I don't sing in the shower," was Emma's argument. Her ability to think straight had left her, and her mouth hung open in disbelief. She didn't sing... that loud. And even if she did, no one should have been able to hear her.

Killian cleared his throat.

_What are you doing, pirate...  
_  
"How does the song go, love?" His voice was getting louder. "You sing it every morning." Killian drank down more rum. His cheeks were red and Emma could smell the alcohol on him, mixed with peppermint and the ocean, a scent he carried with him even after being in Storybrooke for so long. A pirate thing, she always supposed.

"There is no song, Hook." Emma was hissing through her teeth at him to hush, eyes widening.

Killian laughed heartily. "I do recall there being mention of sunshine, or the sun." He frowned in confusion, his brows wrinkling together. "Emma, help me. You know the song better than I do. Help a pirate out! I only can sing pirate songs." He paced to the counter to fill his glass up again, not taking his eyes off of her.

"So then why not grace us with one of your pirate songs?" Emma had half a mind to grab the wine bottle and down it in one gulp, but she shook it off when Killian approached her again, his glass and finger raised at her.

"Is that defeat I sense?" He waggled his finger at _tch_-ed at her. "My swan doesn't stop swimming just like that." Killian elevated an eyebrow, and for a fleeting moment, Emma thought that he had noticed the rosiness blooming on her face.

_My swan_… No one had ever called her that before.

Killian's arm wrapped around Emma's shoulders, his hook resting on her arm, and she felt his weight shift drunkenly onto her. She braced her knees and curved herself against the wall. There was warmth radiating off of him that Emma felt – she inhaled deeply and allowed herself to be overcome by it, opening up to it. The memories of the last times she'd felt this had faded – forced to the furthest depths of her mind only to be washed away. There were things in her life that she didn't _want_ to remember, and _his_ affection was one of them. She had built her walls up afterwards, and only recently had they started coming down again.

That scared Emma in a strangely comforting way.

Her mind rooted itself back in reality at the sound of Killian's sing-song voice in her ear. It seemed that no one else could hear, that it was only meant for her. "_Here comes the sun_…" he began. It was soft and teeming with amusement. "Isn't that how it goes?" Killian smiled against her hair, and Emma could see Mary Margaret sneaking sideways glances at them.

Emma raised her hand and plastered it to the side of Killian's face, pushing him away from her ear. She did not need this right now, especially not in front of half the town of Storybrooke. No one else seemed to have taken notice, though. David was far too involved with his wife to really send his attention elsewhere. She took the last bite of her cake and spun around to Killian, her mouth full of delicious icing. "I don't need this right now…" she said firmly, but she was wary – it took more than that to make a drunken pirate stop.

"_Little darling_," he continued.

As much as he pressed her buttons, Emma couldn't deny that he had a beautiful voice. This was the first she'd heard of it, and she was impressed – that wasn't something she had zero intent on telling him.

"_The smiles returning to their faces_…" His singing was mellow and low, but Emma was unsure if she'd heard something as enticing. He sent shivers up and down her spine, and the hairs at the back of her neck stood up. Killian made her stomach flutter, and probably didn't know it. "_Little darling, it seems like years since it's been here._"

Emma made her best attempt to stifle the smile forming, but it failed… miserably, and that only made him louder. A few more than Mary Margaret's heads turned, and soon, there were more than enough (one was more than enough for Emma) of them listening closely. Granny let out an ecstatic giggle at the thought of him serenading her.

"Are we having some karaoke now?" Ruby asked not-so-innocently. She flashed Emma a wicked grin, and she could have sworn the brunette winked at her.

"No," Emma replied firmly. She rolled her head back in frustration and ran her fingers through her hair, watching Ruby's face turn from excitement to disappointment, with a hint of _why-are-you-so-stubborn_.

"I'm just reminding the birthday girl of the song she enjoys blasting whilst showering!" Killian swooped in, the image of Emma befuddled clearly entertaining to him. _It's endearing_, he would argue. He glanced at her over his shoulder and the side of his mouth twitched. Emma turned on her heel and preceded to the kitchen, the redness in her cheeks was clear as day.

She couldn't let herself go. Not even for a pirate with a beautiful voice.

* * *

The end of the night had come, and Emma was finally upstairs in her room. She slid her boots off of her sore feet, slipped out of her sweater and fell backwards onto her bed, ready to shut her eyes and sleep. Despite everything, she truly enjoyed herself today – even the singing. Killian knew how to press her buttons, and Emma might have been annoyed on any other occasion, but all she could remember was the way his voice sounded in her ear, low and cool. She got those same shivers and Emma's attempts to shake it off were far from successful.

A quiet knock on the door startled her.

"Yeah?" she called out. Mary Margaret and David had found themselves a new home in Storybrooke, leaving only her, Henry, and Killian living in the apartment – Henry slept downstairs in the bedroom while Killian…

When the door opened, a black-haired head poked through. "Sorry, love," he said under his breath. Killian quietly shut the door behind him, his jacket falling off of his shoulders.

Emma climbed to her feet. "That was uncalled for – what you did today."

"You know well what happens when I have too much rum," he said with an air of protest. "Besides, it's your own bloody fault that you sing far too loud for your own good in the shower." He paused, and Emma felt a quip coming. "I can make you sing other things in the shower if you'd prefer."

_Yeeep_.

"And what songs would those be?" Emma knew she was only provoking him further, but with all the wine spinning in her head right now, it was making its own decisions, and her mouth was only speaking what the drunkenness wanted her to say. _Don't, Emma_.

"My na–"

Emma shoved a finger onto his mouth, pressing his lips together, shushing him. "Before you go there, _don't_."

Killian's arms found his way around her waist and it didn't take him much longer to pull her in close. Emma's own arms enveloped him round his shoulders, and he buried his face in her hair. "You never told your dear mother and father about us," he scolded, rocking her back and forth in a warm embrace. His index finger was grazing the small of her back – it brought Emma a sense of comfort. "Why are you so down? Your choice of song tells me otherwise."

Emma placed her feet onto Killian's and she danced with him. "I am trying," she confessed, tilting her head back to get a better look at him. Concern was etched into the wrinkles on his forehead and the frown on his mouth. "And I happen to like that song. Do I really need any other reason for it?"

Killian shook his head and placed a kiss between her brows. _"Here comes the sun_…" he started again. This time, Emma didn't challenge it. She closed her eyes and propped her head against his lips, and his warm breath cleared her head – tonight, this moment, Killian lifted the weight of the world off of her and she could breathe. "_And I say… it's alright_."

Maybe for the first time in her life, everything would really be alright. She'd wanted to believe that more than anything. It seemed so now, as she stood on his feet and he spun them around in circles, his voice putting her at ease.

"Killian–"

He shook his head, and Emma stopped herself, waiting for him to say something. There was a moment when they did nothing but stare at one another, Killian's hand cupping her cheek.

"What?" she asked curiously.

"_Happy Birthday, Emma_."


End file.
